Homecoming
by zomganonymous
Summary: When tragedy struck during an end of eighth grade celebration, Claire Lyons left home to pursue an acting career in Los Angeles. Four years later, she's returned to Westchester to confront her past and determine her future. Chapter 11 FINALLY up!
1. Everything Comes to an End

It had been four years since it had happened. Claire Lyons could still remember the night vividly. The five friends had been laughing together in the back of a rented limo in New York City, taking pictures on their limited-edition cell phones and sending them straight to their Photobucket accounts. This celebratory trip into the city had to be commemorated for all of the less-important OCD students to see. The trip was intended to celebrate the girls' successful completion of eighth grade. They were officially high schoolers. The next year would bring a new school with new girls and new experiences. The girls had known it would be different, but they didn't know that something that would happen later that night that would not only change their high school experience… it would change their lives.

Claire could even remember what they had been talking about when it had happened. They had been playing a particularly intense round of What Would You Rather, when Dylan had decided to mess around and turn the game in a much more personal direction.

_June 21, 2003_

"_Massie. We all know that you used to like Cam, but that fizzled. And we also all know that you and Derrington are pretty much over… all over again. So… which ex-crush would you rather have a totally steamy make-out session with?" Dylan asked slyly, as if she knew something that no one else did._

_Massie turned an unflattering shade of crimson. "You did _not_ just go there," she spoke icily in a low voice when responding to Dylan. Claire could have sworn that the temperature in the back of the limo had dropped a good fifteen degrees._

"_Come on, Mass, you know the rules," Kristen smirked teasingly. "You've got to answer _every_ question with complete honesty. No exceptions."_

_Massie turned her most evil glare on every one of her friends, but avoided Claire's eyes. "You want to know? Fine. But I get 1,000 gossip points. No. I get a million freakin' gossip points. And if any of you – and I mean _any_ of you – tell anyone about this? You are so dead. Literally."_

_Claire looked from Massie, who looked quite guilty and quite furious at the same time, to Dylan, who obviously knew what was going on. Neither gave any hint as to what was coming. "Massie. Answer the question," Claire said, her voice deadly calm. Instinct had taught her to fear the worst when dealing with Massie Block._

"_Cam and I… we've been… seeing each other," Massie said lamely. Claire understood 'seeing each other' to mean having some of the 'steamy make-out sessions' that Dylan had described on Massie's bed. Less than a football field away from Claire, who was officially Cam's girlfriend._

"_How long?" Alicia asked the question that Claire had been dying to know the answer to, but was too shocked to ask._

"_Since October," Massie answered flatly._

"_When Claire was off shooting that movie," Alicia clarified unnecessarily. Claire noticed that she was holding her cell phone hidden behind her bag where Massie couldn't see it, but pointed directly at Massie. Claire guessed what she was doing._

"_Alicia," Claire said pointedly._

"_What?" Alicia looked up. She was punching at the keypad on her cell phone._

"_Give me your phone," Massie commanded in a soft, dangerous voice._

"_W-why, Mass?" Alicia asked nervously. This confirmed Claire's suspicions. Alicia never refused an order from Massie unless she had something to hide._

"_Give it," Massie ordered, and it was obvious that she had made the same connection that Claire had made. It was clear that Alicia knew she had been cornered, and she handed over the phone. Massie examined the screen. Claire looked at it over Massie's shoulder. Sure enough, Alicia had been attempting to send a FLIX message with a video of Massie's confession enclosed. "You backstabbing bitch. Double-crossing pathetic fucking scumbag slut," Massie uttered in the same soft, dangerous murmur._

"_Mass, I wasn't… it isn't… I…" Alicia's stutters were interrupted by a screech of pain and fury when she found herself slapped across the face. Massie's chest was heaving with emotion._

"_You think _that's_ bad? Wait until we get to school! Your life is _over_!" Massie screamed at the top of her lungs, a drastic change from the whisper she'd favored in the minutes before. At that precise moment, the limo swerved. The girls screamed in fear, clutching at each other for dear life. They felt something smash into the limousine, watched the side of the car crumple, and all went black._

Present Time

Claire couldn't help but shiver every time she remembered that fateful night. It had haunted both her waking hours and the hours she spent asleep for the past four years, even after she had left Westchester just weeks after that night to escape to Los Angeles. Her excuse had been that she wanted to get serious about her acting, but it was obvious to everyone close to her that she was still troubled by thoughts of her former friends.

Claire and Massie had been the sole survivors of the accident. Claire was left with nothing in Westchester. Three of her friends had fallen victim to the accident, which was said to have been caused by the driver swerving to avoid hitting a child who had run out into the road after a pet rabbit. The child had survived, the rabbit had not… and neither had the three remaining friends Claire had felt she could trust. After finding out about Massie and Cam, she and Massie could never be friends again, as far as Claire was concerned. And Claire and Cam were obviously through, too. With Layne away at a special school of the arts, Claire was left alone and friendless in a place where a social life means everything.

After weeks of trying to get her life on track in Westchester, Claire had convinced her mother to allow her to go to California to stay with a distant cousin so that she could be closer to her work. Once in Los Angeles, instead of settling down and relaxing like everyone had hoped she would, Claire instead threw herself into her work, taking each and every part she could get, from big-budget movies to athlete's foot treatment commercials. It had paid off. She became one of the most famous young faces in Hollywood.

But all of the early fame had consequences. At age seventeen, Claire was old news. Hollywood had begun passing her by. And after a hushed-up stay at a rehab center in Montana, Claire's parents and agent came to a mutual decision.

Which was how Claire Lyons found herself standing once more on the threshold of the guesthouse at Massie Block's estate.

---

Reviews make me smile. ;)


	2. Less Than Warm Welcomes

"Hi," Claire said cautiously when her brother, Todd, answered the door. This was the first time she had been face-to-face with him in four years. His red hair had grown longer, and for the first time in living memory, he towered over Claire.

"Nice of you to finally stop by," he said after a moment of silence that was spent by the siblings examining each other. "I can't believe you didn't even come home for Christmas. Not even once. Do you even _know_ how depressed Mom and Dad always were during the holidays, just because you hadn't bothered to squeeze us into your busy movie star schedule? It _sucked_! Thanks for basically killing every bit of fun in the past four years. You wrecked the last years of my childhood!" He slammed the door in her face. Claire was stunned. Her brother had been a generally good-natured little kid, but it seemed that with adolescence, he had grown into a typical angsty teenager. At age ten, if he'd slammed the door in her face, it would have been part of a stupid little prank. Not out of genuine anger.

The door swung open again. Claire's mother had appeared in the doorway, looking slightly worried about what she would see on the doorstep. "Claire?" she asked tentatively.

"Hi, Mom," Claire managed a smile. She stepped forward to hug her mother, who returned the embrace rather half-heartedly. "Um, how are you?"

Judi Lyons surveyed her daughter, looking a bit angry. Her frown creased her now thin face. "Well, although you haven't bothered to ask in the past four years, I suppose starting now is better than nothing."

"Mom, why is everyone acting like I completely cut myself off from you guys? I so didn't! I wrote to you, I called you, what's the big deal?" Claire was on the defensive, already tired of the cold shoulder she was getting from her family.

"I saved every letter you wrote and put them in a box on my dresser. There are three letters in that box. Three, Claire! Three letters in _four_ years! And you never called. Not once. I called you all the time that first year, but when you never made an effort to contact us yourself, I took the hint and stopped trying to talk to you. You never visited. The only way to get news about you was to read Us Weekly!" Judi spoke as calmly as she could, but it was easy to sense the cold fury in her voice, the hurt at having been shut out of her daughter's life. "You were a _child_ when you left, Claire! You weren't yet fourteen years old! You're still a minor now! It's not right for you to be cut off from your family at such an early age."

"Mom, I was fine, okay? It wasn't a big deal! And you could have called, okay? You could have. I didn't call because I didn't remember, because it wasn't a big deal to me! And it shouldn't be a big deal to you, either," Claire shot back.

"Claire Lyons, I am your _mother_! Do you understand how hard it was for me to not have a clue what was going on in your life? If you weren't on the cover of some magazine every other week, I would have worried that you'd died!" Judi dropped her composed manner and yelled at her daughter. "And do you know how horrible it felt to turn on E! and hear that you were in _rehab_? Do you know how terrible it was to hear it on _television_? We're your _family_, and we found out about your life like we were some starstruck teenage fans!"

"Why the hell did you bring me back here if all you wanted to do was bitch at me and try to send me on some lame guilt trip? FYI, it's _not_ working, okay? I am _this_ close to turning around and going back to L.A. So drop it," Claire commanded.

Judi stepped towards her, getting right in Claire's face. "I do not care how rich and famous you are, young lady. I am your _mother_ and you will _not_ disrespect me like that."

"God, _what_ is going on over here? Cam and I were-" Massie stopped short when she saw the tall, slim blonde in the doorway turn to glare at her.

"Hello, Massie," Claire said coldly, putting as much contempt as she could muster into those four syllables.

"Oh, hi, Claire," Massie offered a flimsy smile. Unlike in their middle-school years, Claire was now the power player in the situation. It didn't matter how popular Massie was at school, the fact remained that Claire was a world-famous teen queen. Massie's small-time popularity would never be able to compare to Claire's superstardom.

Claire seemed to recognize this fact, too. "Here's the deal, Miss Thing. FYI, you're _not_ Miss Thing when you're around me. You're a pathetic little wannabe, and no amount of sucking up is going to make me forget what you did to me."

"Claire, we are _guests_ on Massie's estate!" Judi interjected.

"Um, Mom, if you remember, I could buy this house out from under them," Claire said coldly. "So I'm going to speak to that bitch however I want. And if that means renting a suite at the Four Seasons, so be it. Anyways… So, Mass. How goes it with the Pretty Committee?"

Massie looked stricken. "Claire. You know exactly what… where… where they are."

"Yeah, I do. If you remember properly, I just got back from a four-year trip to California so I could… how do I want to put it? So I could cope with the loss. So anyways, after your cronies went down, did you give up terrorizing the rest of the student body? Or are you still the so-called alpha?" Claire put on a friendly smile and asked these acidic questions as though she was merely curious.

"I'm still the alpha, thanks very much. So what about you, how many movie-best-friends have you gone through so far? Five? Ten?" Massie reminded Claire of the embarrassing amount of trust she'd placed in Abby Boyd while filming her very first feature film.

"Actually, I have quite a few _real _best friends back in L.A. They've been very helpful to me during a few… incidents. And by the way, I've been in _sixteen_ films, thanks very much," Claire said coolly. "So, you and Cam. Still together?"

As if on cue, Cam ambled up to the girls and Judi. "Mass? Who's this? Did Jasmine dye her hair again?" He studied Claire. "No, this isn't Jasmine… but hey, you look familiar. Have we met?"

"More than once," Claire said icily. "I guess this answers my question."

Cam considered Claire a moment longer. "I would say you look like Skye Hamilton… but she graduated and moved away…"

Massie stared from Cam to Claire, unsure whether or not she should enlighten her boyfriend. Claire's deadly glare rendered Massie incapable of speech, even though it was directed at Cam.

"You may have seen me on the cover of Seventeen magazine this month," Claire suggested coldly. "Or maybe it's the movie I starred in with Zac Efron. Oh, wait, that one hasn't been released yet… Or maybe I even remind you of your _first girlfriend_."

The color drained from Cam's face. "_Claire_?"

"No shit, Sherlock. It took you long enough to figure _that_ one out," Claire said frostily.

"You… you look _great_." Cam's eyes lingered on Claire's perfectly sculpted butt, courtesy of her personal trainer. He looked at her C-cups even longer.

"Hey, Romeo, remember who you're here with." Massie wrapped her thin arm around Cam's waist protectively.

"Don't worry, Massie. I'm a bit too upscale for cheating scumbags like him these days. But I can understand why you couldn't get anything better," Claire said in a mock-thoughtful voice. With one last glare at Cam and Massie, Claire shoved past her mother and into the guesthouse, heading for her old room.


	3. I Love New York

"That's it. I am _out_ of here," Claire stormed back through the small house after seeing that her old bedroom had been turned into a game room for Todd. She shoved past her mother, who was making polite conversation with Massie but (Claire was pleased to see) completely ignoring Cam.

"Claire, where are you going?" Judi called after her daughter, who had slipped on a pair of Chanel sunglasses and was sliding into her BMW convertible.

"Back to L.A. Or at least down to New York. You converted my room into a _game room_ for Todd and his scrawny little friends to play video games in? I am _so_ not staying here," Claire spat. "I'll drive down to the city and get a hotel room. It'll be a _lot_ nicer anyways."

"Yeah, nice for us. We won't have to stare at your ugly face!" Todd could be heard yelling from inside the house.

"Todd! Not now!" Judi said in exasperation. "Claire, you were going to be staying in the guest room up at the main house."

"Oh, well, that just makes things _so_ much better!" Claire shut her car door and put the key on its limited edition Coach keychain into the ignition. "I am _not_ sleeping within 500 feet of that boyfriend-stealing skank. I don't know if I'd be able to resist the urge to strangle her in her sleep."

"Oh, come _on_, Kuh-laire! You dated Zac Efron! How big of a loss was Cam in comparison? I mean, no offense to Cam, but…" Massie shrugged. She was back in alpha mode.

"Um, don't believe everything you read, Miss Thing. Zac and I are _just friends_, okay? And besides, it's about the whole principle of the thing. You were supposed to be my BFF, but you made out with my boyfriend behind my back! It doesn't matter if my boyfriend was some loser like Cam or a super-hot teenage heartthrob. It just matters that you snuck around and did something that you _knew_ would hurt me," Claire found herself fighting tears as her emotions came rushing back. "And congrats, Massie! Four years later, the memory still hurts me. So, kudos to you!" Claire flashed a phony smile and a thumbs-up before starting the car and speeding out of the circular driveway.

Claire raced down I-87, her silver convertible glinting in the afternoon sun, the wind blowing through her silky blonde hair. The speedometer read sixty… then sixty-five… then seventy… seventy-five… eighty… Claire kept accelerating. This was, in her opinion, the best way to blow off steam. "Crap," she muttered suddenly. She'd spotted flashing lights behind her, and she could hear a siren screaming. She pulled over onto the side of the road and was soon approached by a New York State Trooper.

"License and registration," the officer said, sounding bored. "You not from around here? The plates say California." 

Claire pulled off her sunglasses and flashed a dazzling smile at the trooper as she handed over her California driver's license. "I'm actually from Florida, but my family moved up here… Then I went out to California for work, and that's where I got my license."

"Claire Lyons?" the officer stared at her in surprise, pulling off his own sunglasses. "My daughter adores you!" He put away the ticket he'd started filling out. "Now, I can make you a deal, and just this once," he said sternly, but his grey eyes were twinkling.

"Thanks so much, sir," Claire said in her most humbled voice.

"If you'll give me an autograph to give to my daughter, I'll let you off with a warning. But hun, you were going eighty-six miles per hour!" The trooper looked at Claire expectantly, as though he were waiting for her to exclaim that she couldn't believe she'd been going that fast. Claire merely tried her best not to yawn. She'd made a pastime of seeing how fast she could push her little car to go on the deserted roads in northern California. Eighty-six was a leisurely speed compared to Claire's current record of 121.

"Okay, sir. Have you got anything I could sign for her?" Claire inquired.

"Well, I've got this ticket here…" the trooper joked.

Claire flashed a somewhat weary smile. "It's all right, I think I've got a napkin from the Coffee Bean in my glove box…"

The trooper spotted the pile of Coffee Bean cups littering the floor on the passenger side of Claire's car. "What about one of those cups? She'd think that was the coolest thing, that you actually drank out of it, _and_ autographed it. It might even have some of your DNA left on it in traces of saliva! She would love that!" The pudgy older man looked at Claire eagerly.

Claire tried to smile again, but she was sure it had come out as more of a grimace. Some of her fans were apparently complete and total freaks. "Uh, sure, I guess that's fine," Claire said, an irritated edge creeping into her voice. She pulled a pink Sharpie out of her Coach wristlet, grabbed an old Coffee Bean cup from the floor of her car, autographed it quickly, and thrust it at the trooper. "Thanks for letting me off with a warning, I'll be sure to be more careful on the road next time," Claire said brightly. "Tell your daughter I said hi, and to keep an eye out for me if she's shopping in the city anytime soon! Bye, now."

The trooper tipped his hat to Claire, realizing that he'd been dismissed, and strolled leisurely back to his car. Claire waited impatiently while he got in and drove off, waving to her as he passed. "Oh, god, I should have autographed a pack of mints for him instead," Claire muttered to herself as she sped off again, this time noticing a familiar Range Rover tailing her. She smiled triumphantly to herself, realizing that Massie hadn't gotten a new car, but had been given the old family car. She accelerated, knowing that her Beemer could easily outstrip the bulky Range Rover.

Suddenly, the Range Rover was right next to her. Massie waved from the driver's seat, grinning at Claire. She rolled her window down. "Your mom wanted me to – Aaaah!" Massie ended her sentence with a bloodcurdling shriek as she realized that in the moments that she had been looking at Claire, she'd drifted halfway into another lane of traffic and nearly run a Toyota Prius off the road. The driver, who looked to have a bad case of road rage already, was now flipping Massie off with one hand and motioning for her to pull over with the other. His face was purple, and although Claire could not hear him, she could tell he was screaming obscenities.

Claire slowed down a bit so she would be next to Massie. "Massie! _Pull over_, or I'm going to call the police on you for reckless driving!"

"Bitch!" Massie flipped Claire off and glared at her, but pulled over nonetheless. As soon as she'd put the Range Rover in park, the driver of the Prius approached her, apparently still screaming. Claire watched the scene in her rearview mirror until the pair was out of sight. _Funniest thing I've seen since I got here_, Claire thought cynically.

---

"What do you _mean_, you have no rooms available?" Claire demanded. She was standing at the registration desk at the Four Seasons in Manhattan.

"I'm sorry, miss, but it's Labor Day weekend, plenty of tourists come down for, er, a 'last hurrah' with their broods of children. End of the summer, you know," the hotel employee explained, with a slightly disgusted edge to his voice. "I assure you, Miss Lyons, that I would much prefer serving clients such as yourself as opposed to some of our guests." He eyed a large family that had just walked into the lobby, talking loudly amongst themselves with a Southern twang to their voices.

"Please, sir, can't you do something?" Claire pleaded. There was no way that she was going to stay at some fleabag motel in Queens.

As if by godsend, a haughty old woman in a crisp Chanel suit was storming through the lobby. "I refuse to stay at this hotel another night! These filthy _tourists_, stampeding through the halls at all hours, I haven't slept a wink since I checked in!"

"Well, you're in luck, Miss Lyons. It looks like a room has just opened up. And, if I'm not mistaken, I believe old Ms. Hathaway had been staying in one of our presidential suites," the hotel employee beamed at Claire, who immediately whipped out her Visa.

"That sounds perfect," she grinned back at him.

---

At four p.m., Claire headed down to TY for afternoon tea before checking out the spa. No sooner had she ordered a black forest ham and Swiss sandwich than Massie appeared out of nowhere.

"How did you find me?" Claire demanded coldly.

"Concierge," Massie shrugged, setting her Prada tote on her lap. "I went up to him and asked if he knew if you had checked in, and he said that if I wanted to run into you, I could find you down at TY. So, here I am!" Massie finished her sentence with a bright smile.

"Why are you here?" Claire asked, her voice a mixture of cold anger and mere boredom.

Massie was suddenly serious. "Claire, it's been four years. We need to talk. You need to know the whole story."


	4. The Truth About Lies

A/N: Oh my god, I am SO sorry about the mix-up. I accidentally uploaded chapter four from my old Clique story, which was some stupid parody where everyone dies, so when you were all reviewing like WHAT THE FUCK?! I got wicked confused cause I didn't realize that I'd uploaded the wrong chapter. SO sorry, and hopefully this one fits in with the story a bit better.

---

Claire sized Massie up. "What is there to tell? You fooled around with Cam behind my back. Then, ironically, the night the truth came out, our best friends were killed. So I went off to California to get away from you and the manwhore, stayed for a few years, and now here I am. The end."

"But Claire, you don't understand!" Massie said, almost pleadingly. It was hard to believe that just four years ago, Massie had been able to boss Claire around.

"What don't I understand?" Claire demanded coolly, not bothering to make eye contact with Massie and instead swirling around the water in her crystal glass with a straw.

"Look, I didn't even _know_ he was your boyfriend, okay?" Massie explained.

Claire laughed derisively. "Yeah. Right."

"Seriously!" Massie assured her earnestly.

_October 31, 2002_

"_Hey, Massie." Cam slid into a chair across the table from Massie, who was sipping her chai latté. Starbucks was the best place to go when all of your friends had ditched you. "What're you doing here? Why aren't you over at Olivia's party?"_

"_Uhm, let me see, maybe because I totally hate the girl?" Massie said sarcastically. "What are _you_ doing here? Isn't the whole soccer team making an appearance?"_

_Cam sagged. "We had to bring dates."_

_Massie reddened as she wondered why Derrington hadn't asked her to the party, speculating about the older girl he'd no doubt chosen instead. "Oh… and with Claire in London for filming…"_

"_Even if she was over here, she wouldn't have come with me," Cam said bitterly._

_Massie brightened. She could practically smell the gossip Cam was about to dish. The latest scoop on famous Claire Lyons was at Massie's fingertips, and if she could be the first to report on it, Us Weekly would be begging her to come to work for them. "What do you mean? I thought you two were super-happy!"_

"_No," Cam said, the bitter edge to his voice becoming more pronounced. "I was logged into her MySpace one day because I was going to leave her a surprise-"_

"_What kind of surprise?" Massie asked slyly._

"_None of your business," Cam said with a finality that told Massie that she wasn't going to find out no matter how much she badgered him. "Anyways, I was logged in and I saw that she had a new message, so I read it… and it was from that Conner Foley jerk. It was, like, some sexy e-mail, almost cyber-sex."_

_Massie pulled a grossed-out face. "Ew! Are you _serious_?!"_

"_Yeah. So I read some of the other messages she'd gotten from him, and they were just more of the same," he explained resentfully._

"_Well, isn't it possible that she hadn't been a part of it?" Massie pointed out, not wanting to admit that this girl who was practically her sister was a total cyber-whore._

"_Trust me, that's what I really wanted to think. But I went into her sent messages…" Cam didn't bother finishing his sentence, trusting that Massie could infer what he meant. "So I told her what I'd found, and I wasn't going to break up with her right then, I don't think, but when she found out I'd been snooping, she dumped _me_."_

"_Well, you broke up with her in seventh grade for reading your ESP journal," Massie pointed out. "So she kind of had the right…"_

"_Are you saying you're taking _her_ side?" Cam demanded, now unleashing the full blast of his pent-up anger on Massie._

"_No, no!" Massie assured him, holding up her hands. "I'm just saying." Massie made eye contact with Cam, examining his blue and green eyes. She could see a hard expression on the surface, with hurt and – could it be? – attraction buried deep within. He pushed his thick wavy black hair back, and it fell back over his vibrant eyes. Had she really given up so easily on him back in the seventh grade?_

"_Okay. I understand, you're just… trying to see things from her point of view," Cam said, more calmly._

"_Wow, that ESP class really taught you a lot, didn't it?" Massie joked._

_Cam smiled back and Massie knew she'd broken through his angry outer shell. Suddenly, he made an unexpected – and unwanted – change of subject. "Claire told me how you liked me last year."_

_Massie fought the urge to blush. She considered denying the accusation; with Cam this angry at Claire, it would have been easy to convince him that she'd lied. Instead, she chose to make a neutral comment. "That was random," she said, raising an eyebrow and half-smiling._

"_Is it true?" he inquired, putting on a joking smile, but Massie saw a longing in his mismatched eyes._

_Massie sighed, rolling her eyes. "Yeah," she began, with every intention of informing him (dishonestly, of course) that he was her crush from seventh grade, and that flame had been extinguished long ago. But she was never given the chance to continue. Cam cut her off by suddenly leaning over the table and kissing her full on the lips._

_The kiss was long and filled with many unmentioned emotions. Massie could feel her old feelings for him rushing back, reawakened by the kiss. When they broke apart, Cam stared at her blankly, as if waiting for her reaction._

"_Let's get out of here," Massie said at first, her voice devoid of emotion. Even in such a crucial moment like this, she couldn't resist toying with the boy a bit. "Let's go somewhere more… private. You know what I mean?"_

_Cam knew exactly what she meant, judging by the triumphant look on his face and the happiness in his different-colored eyes. "I know the perfect place…"_

Present

"Stop it, Massie!" Claire resisted the urge to scream and instead used a low whisper. "I don't want to hear anymore."

"But don't you get it, Claire? You and Cam had broken up, okay? _I didn't do anything wrong_," Massie said, looking at Claire expectantly, as though she expected the blonde girl to forgive her immediately and jump up and give her a big hug.

That didn't happen. "But Massie! When I got back, we made up! We got back together! And _no one_ told me what had been going on when I was gone!" Claire found herself fighting tears. "I _trusted_ you two, more than anyone else in the world! I thought you were supposed to be my best friends!"

Massie was silent, not knowing how to respond to this. "Yeah, I get what you mean," she said finally. "But come on, Claire, I've done worse to you in the five and a half years we've known each other, so this isn't that bad, right? You forgave me for everything else!"

"No, Massie. You haven't done worse. This was the worst, okay?" Claire looked Massie straight in the eye. "You lied to me about something _huge_ for, like, six months! That's worse than throwing tampons at me in the hallway, or talking about me behind my back, or putting red paint on the back of my white jeans."

Massie was silent again. "Claire, I…" she began at long last, still not having a clue as to what she would say next. "Claire," she said again, as the blonde got up to leave. "Come on. Let's talk about this, okay? I know that what I did was wrong, I admit that! But it was _four_ years ago; it's time to get over it! If we were having this conversation and it was only, say, four months from when you'd found out, I'd understand. But it's been _years_. Like, almost a quarter of our lives! Get. Over. It." Massie's voice had strengthened as she spoke, until finally she was firmly back in alpha mode, making Claire feel like the puny seventh-grade loser she'd once been.

"I don't need you," Claire said nastily. "You can't make me feel like shit anymore. And I don't have to take your stupid guilt trips. Get out of here and leave me alone."

"You can't kick me out!" Massie gasped. "This is _public property_!"

"Actually," a deep voice interjected, "it's for patrons only. And seeing as you, miss, haven't ordered anything, and I am certain that you are not a hotel guest, I am going to ask you to leave and stop harassing our guests."

Massie stared up at the tall, muscular concierge that had come to eject her. She studied his chiseled face; he couldn't have been more than twenty-three. She gave him her most sultry smile. "Hey, you're kinda hot." She batted her eyelashes.

The concierge did not look as though he had been turned on or even amused. If anything, he looked angrier. "Out."

"You can't kick me out! I'm… I'm _her_ guest! She invited me here!" Massie lied blatantly, pointing at Claire.

"Like hell I did," Claire spat. "You freaking _followed _me! You're a fucking stalker!"

The concierge grabbed Massie by the shoulder and dragged her out of the chic little café. "You're leaving."

Massie gave Claire the finger as she walked out. Claire smiled and waved.


	5. Makeups & Breakups

So you know, there are a couple of slight alcohol/sex references in this chapter, but nothing in-your-face, just a couple of suggestive phrases in a couple of places. Nothing offensive (unless you're like SUPER conservative), I just thought you deserved a fair warning. R&R!

---

"Where's Claire? I thought you were bringing her back with you," Cam asked earnestly, standing up from his spot on Massie's bed and approaching her as soon as she entered the recently redecorated bedroom.

Massie raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "You certainly seem excited to see her."

"You know that's not how I meant it, Mass," Cam sighed. "I just want to make sure that, you know, she understands everything."

"I explained everything," Massie informed him.

"How'd it go?" Cam asked anxiously.

"God, will you stop acting like a hyper little puppy? I already had one of them, and we both know how that turned out," Massie said bitterly. "But anyways, she got me thrown out of the lounge at the Four Seasons, if that tells you anything."

"So she didn't take it well, huh?" Cam surmised.

"Thanks a bunch, Captain Obvious," Massie rolled her eyes. "Always the helpful one."

"Hey, Massie, if you hate me, why don't you just dump me? We both know you've wanted to for the past year," Cam's eyes narrowed.

"I think the issue is more that you _want_ me to dump you, so you can go around like the poor hurt little boy and use that as your excuse to get some action. Just like you did when we fought last year. And yes, because of what I caught you doing with Olivia, I _have_ wanted to break up for the past year, but I thought it would be more fun to just annoy the living hell out of you," Massie smirked evilly.

"Alright. Then how about this, Massie?" Cam began. Massie's insides turned to lead. She knew what was coming next. "I'm breaking up with _you_."

"Um, no you're not," Massie glared at him. "No one _dumps_ Massie Block."

Cam looked surprised. "Really?" His sarcastic tone made it apparent that he was mocking her. Then his face turned serious. "Well, if I'm not, like, delusional, I think I just did."

"You _are_ delusional, Cameron Fisher, because _I_ am breaking up with _you_! This has all been super-duper and everything, but I think our time is up," Massie snarled.

"Well, Massie, if you're that insecure, I guess you can go ahead and tell everyone all about how you dumped me. It doesn't matter to me, I've still got Olivia's number programmed into my phone," Cam informed her. "Have a nice life, Mass." With those final words, he turned and left the room.

Massie rolled her eyes. "He'll be back."

---

"Yes, is Judi available?" Claire said into her phone with the utmost professionalism.

"Speaking," a tired voice responded.

"Hi, Judi, this is Claire Lyons, I was wondering if you'd do me the honor of accompanying me to lunch today? You may bring a date if you'd like," Claire said coolly, using the businesslike tone she always used when associating with influential people in Hollywood.

"Claire? Why are you talking to me like that?" Judi demanded, sounding annoyed.

Claire gave a carefully perfected condescending, tinkling fake laugh. "Judi, Judi, Judi, I'm a professional!"

"I'm your _mother_!" Judi said, sounding scandalized.

Claire sighed her oh-you're-so-ignorant-but-I'll-be-kind-anyways sigh. "Judi, dear. Lunch? Yes? No? Another time?"

"If you're going to act like some kind of hoity-toity Hollywood diva who's superior to her own parents, then I think I'll decline, thank you," Judi imitated Claire's condescending tone before hanging up.

"God, she's _so_ immature sometimes!" Claire huffed.

---

Massie flipped open her cell phone and checked the time. Four and a half hours had passed since Cam made his exit, and he hadn't even called to apologize. Not even one single pitiful I'm Sorry carnation from Teleflora had arrived. "He's not coming back," Massie suddenly realized.

"Shit. He's not coming back." She stood up and stared into the mirror. Her makeup was still perfect. Not one trail of mascara was visible on her cheeks. Not a single tear had been shed. She hadn't been kidding when she'd said she hadn't cared about him for a year.

Breakups can really get a girl down, though, even when she didn't love the guy anyways. And what better way to get a girl back on the dating scene again than to party like a rock star? Answer: no better way existed. "God, I'm lucky that I never RSVP'd 'no' to Olivia's rager," Massie muttered to herself, already going through her closet for the perfect party outfit. Olivia's party… So Cam would be there. And probably in a bedroom with Olivia. No problem. Massie would show him that she did _not_ need that loser to have an ah-mazing time.

---

"Oh, my _god_, if I get run into by _one_ more person today I am going to _freak_!" a girl with Pocahontas braids, whose toes had just been stepped on by an important-looking man in a business suit, was ranting. Claire took great pleasure in 'accidentally' bumping the drama queen with her Miu Miu pleated leather hobo. "Are you freaking _kidding_ me?" the girl turned on the spot, her momentum causing her Pocahontas braids to smack both her and Claire in the face.

"Oops, so sorry," Claire said insincerely. She realized that something about the girl looked familiar.

"Oh my god. _You_." The girl fixed Claire with an intense glare.

"Um, yep. Me!" Claire said brightly. "Have I seen you before? Maybe at a premiere, or…?" Claire paused, prompting the girl to fill in the blanks.

"I'm Hadley Durk. _You_ are the bitch that put me out of a job," the girl said nastily.

Claire immediately got defensive. "Well, you could blame it on me, but it also may have been the fact that your hairstyle hasn't changed in, like, five years. Come on, girl, get with it!"

Hadley ignored this. "Ever since you got _my_ part in Dial L for Loser, the most work I've gotten was a U-five in some obscure Canadian sitcom, and a few cameos in short films. It's like, Dial P for _Pathetic_!"

Claire rolled her eyes at Hadley's lame attempt at being witty. "It's nawt _my_ fault you and Abby got into a giant bitchfight on national television. That was all you, honey."

Hadley opened and closed her mouth several times, apparently trying to think of a comeback. Finally, her shoulders slumped a bit, signaling her defeat. "So, famous Claire Lyons… what've you been up to?"

---

"Livs, babe, I'm just answering the door," Cam was laughing as he opened the front door of Olivia Ryan's house… only to find himself face-to-face with his recent ex, Massie Block. "Massie? What are _you _doing here?"

"I got invited to Olivia's – or, as you call her, _Livs_ – party," Massie shoved a simple invitation (which, Massie had noticed, had been printed on some pretty low-quality paper) in Cam's face, then delicately pushed past him and entered the party.

Massie immediately regretted coming to Olivia's lame party instead of hitting the city for some clubbing. The possibility of running into Claire was a small price to pay to save herself from the tinny rap and hip-hop mix – _so _2005 – that was blasting from crappy speakers, and the cheap beer, cheese, and crackers that were being offered as refreshments.

"What the _hell_ was I thinking?" she muttered, reluctantly popping open a Bud Lite. She took a sip and immediately spit it all over the chips and dip, to the disgust of the fat girls who had been gorging on them all night. "Whoopsie. But every cloud has a silver lining… Maybe that'll help you stick to your diets!" Massie said, faking an air of brightness and optimism. The fat girls glared at her and moseyed down the refreshments table toward the cookie platters. "Looking like an elephant isn't sexy, girls! I know Seventeen tells you to love your body for how it is, but come _on_!" Massie called after them.

"Well, Block, I can't say I've missed your bitchy comments, but I've definitely missed the rest of you." A tall, muscular guy had just appeared beside Massie. She didn't recognize the deep voice or the callused hand that had dropped on her shoulder. But only one person she knew had ever, _ever_ called her 'Block.' And the thought of that person still sent tingles down her spine.


	6. Let's Get Out of Here

"Derrick?" Massie said faintly. To this day, the boy standing before her still didn't know how she and her friends had once secretly called him Derrington.

He smiled, sending more shivers down her spine. "In the flesh."

Massie did her best to regain her composure. "So… where have you been these past four years? I haven't seen you once since…" She stopped speaking, not wanting to bring up their end-of-seventh-grade breakup and the painfully embarrassing last days of school, even though both events had taken place about five years ago.

"Yeah, I got accepted to this school on Long Island with an amazing soccer program. Actually, I'd already been accepted before what's-her-name's stupid party-" Derrington began.

"Skye," Massie interrupted, supplying the name.

"Whatever," Derrington waved the name away. "Anyways, I ended up moving down to Long Island to move in with my mom so I could go to school there." He shrugged indifferently, signaling the end of his tale.

"I didn't know your parents were divorced," Massie said, stalling. She didn't want to sound whiny and demand why he had never told her he would be leaving.

"Yeah…" Derrington nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets, obviously not wanting to elaborate.

Massie sighed. "Why didn't you tell me you were going?" she asked calmly.

He shrugged. "I didn't want to ruin the end of your year. And I didn't really know how to tell you. If you don't remember, I was kind of an idiot in seventh grade," he smirked.

Massie raised an eyebrow. "You kind of ruined the end of my year anyways," she half-smiled. "And yes, you were a _total_ idiot in seventh grade." She sighed. "Weren't we all?"

"You weren't so much an idiot as a total bitch," he said thoughtfully.

Massie smacked him playfully. "That hasn't changed, actually. It's one of the few things that hasn't."

Derrington smiled sadly. "Yeah… So, hey, how's Claire doing? I haven't heard much about her lately. Last I knew, she was in rehab or whatever."

Massie's face darkened. "She's back. She's staying at the Four Seasons in New York."

"I have the feeling that you don't want to talk about her," Derrington surmised.

"Yeah. I don't. She got me kicked out of the café at the hotel, for God's sake! And she's all pissed about me and Cam…" Massie fell silent, remembering that there was a good chance that Derrington didn't know anything about her and Cam.

Derrington knit his brows, examining Massie as if he'd just seen her for the first time. "You and Cam?"

Massie sighed. "It's a long story, and I really just don't want to talk about it."

Derrington raised an eyebrow but didn't question her further. "Hey, you want to get out of here? This place kinda sucks."

"I've been wanting to get out of here ever since I _got_ here," Massie said gratefully, grabbing his arm. "Want to go into the city and hit a club or something?"

Derrington shook his head. "No, I'm not really into that. The whole dry-humping each other in the middle of a giant crowd and getting drunk off my ass doesn't sound all that appealing. Want to go get some coffee or something?"

Massie was surprised that Derrington wasn't interested. She and Cam had gone clubbing in the city all the time, it was one of their few common interests. But she could live without the scene for a while, if it was what she had to give up to hang out with this boy who'd reappeared in her life at just the right moment. It had taken her five years, but Massie had finally figured out why she had never really allowed herself to connect with Cam. "Yeah, let's go to Starbucks," she smiled up at him. He was much taller than she was now; she'd topped out at 5'6", while he had probably at least hit six foot.

"Sounds great. I'll buy," he offered.

"That makes it like a date," Massie smiled. He opened his mouth and began to deny that that had been his plan. "But I'm alright with that," Massie interrupted, placing his arm around her, just like he'd done in Lake Placid all those years ago. As they exited Olivia's less-than-exciting house, Massie caught sight of Cam staring at her and Derrington. _Eat your heart out_, she thought, raising an eyebrow at him. She saw him start towards her, but she shut the door behind her, unable to help but think how symbolic that simple action of shutting the door on Cam ended up to be.

---

"Livs, I'll be right back!" Cam shouted over his shoulder, heading for the bathroom. When the door was safely shut and locked, he pulled out his Samsung cell phone. He scrolled through his list of contacts to the C's, then called the number he hadn't dialed in years, hoping beyond hopes that it still belonged to the same person.

---

Claire let out an audible "Ugh" at the sound of her cell phone ringtone. She was in one of the hottest new dance clubs in New York City, and dancing with someone who she was quite sure she'd seen on an Abercrombie bag. Interruptions were _not_ welcome. But if it was her agent or her manager or someone else important, she'd be in trouble if she didn't answer. So she sighed and headed to the bathroom. "Hello?" she said impatiently.

"Claire. Uh, hi. It's Cam," a familiar – though deeper than she remembered – voice spoke into the phone.

"What?" she barked. "I was just dancing with an Abercrombie model, I don't need your bullshit right now."

"Massie and I are over," Cam blurted, then clapped a hand to his forehead. He hadn't wanted to let that slip for fear of Claire thinking he was simply running back to her as a last resort.

"So now you're crawling back because if you can't have _her_, I'm second best or third best or maybe even fourth best, right?" Claire snorted unsympathetically. "Well, Cam, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I really just don't give a damn. So if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go find Adam again, okay? Buh-bye." She jabbed the End button on her cell phone as brutally as possible, leaving Cam staring at his now silent phone in vain.

Cam swore under his breath and broke his staring contest with the screen of his cell phone. Suddenly, he hurled the phone at a wall; it shattered upon impact. "Damn it!" he swore again, wondering to himself how he had ever thought that cheating on Claire with her best friend could have been a solution to their problems. He had never loved Massie and never would, but Claire… As much as he had tried to convince himself that he was done with her, he had never been able to completely forget what they'd had together. And he wasn't going to screw up again by going back out into the party and indulging in some serious making out with Olivia. He was going to…

Well, first he was going to have to get a new phone.

---

"So," Massie said, sipping a comforting venti hot chocolate. She usually wouldn't indulge the extra calories just for some warmed-up chocolate milk, but this was a special occasion, and she didn't need caffeine hyping up her mind. Besides, it was _skim_ milk.

"What have you been up to the past few years?" Derrington slid onto the chocolate brown leather couch, right next to Massie, seating them closer than they'd been in a long time.

"Some of it has been kind of tough," Massie admitted. Derrington raised an eyebrow, prompting her to elaborate. "You must have heard about… you know. Alicia, Kristen, and Dylan…?"

Derrington nodded solemnly. "Yeah, I did. I almost called you when I heard, but it had been months and I figured you didn't need anyone reminding you about it."

Massie shrugged. "Hearing from _anyone_ would have been nice. I was kind of alone. Bean had somehow gotten worms, and she ended up getting a really high fever and… and they couldn't do anything. That was the fall after you left. So when Leesh, Kristen, and Dylan were gone… and Claire had run off to California… there really wasn't anyone there for me." Massie's insides twisted with guilt at her semi-lie. Cam, of course, had been there, but he was dealing with Claire leaving, so he hadn't really been there for Massie. And that's what she'd said, hadn't she? There hadn't been anyone there _for her_. So it wasn't really a lie at all, was it? And it wasn't time yet to tell Derrington about Cam. Massie would deal with that later.

Derrington sighed. "Yeah, I figured I should have called… But oh well. What's done is done."

"The important thing is, you're here now," Massie heard herself saying, inadvertently allowing herself to voice her feelings, something she'd never liked to do. The temporary fracture in her unemotional outer shell was worth the small amount of vulnerability she'd suffered, though, because after hearing this simple statement, Derrington offered up the same sparkly-eyed smile that Massie had taken for granted in middle school, and slung his muscular arm around her shoulders.

The pair sat like that for a few minutes in silence, Massie sipping her hot chocolate and Derrington drinking a plain coffee, savoring the momentary return to their carefree middle school years. "So," Derrington said finally. "This is nice."

"Yeah, it really is," Massie smiled up at him, leaning into him. "So what happens-"

"Awwwwh, look, the cutest wittle couple in Westchester, snuggling on the couch at Starbucks," Coral McAdams, a.k.a. Strawberry, singsonged as she stepped out from behind the counter, pulling off her Starbucks apron.

Massie rolled her eyes. "Strawberry Whorecake, I didn't know you were working as a barista. Doesn't working half the corners in New York City take up most of your time?"

"I'm an _exotic dancer_, Massie _Bitch_," Strawberry shot back. "Not a _whore_. There's a _difference_."

"Massie Bitch? That's a good one," Massie said sarcastically. "Well, thanks for ruining the moment and clarifying the difference between someone who gets paid to do lapdances for guys while wearing crotchless panties, and someone who gets paid to have sex. I mean, one is just so much more tasteful. See you around!" Massie smiled brightly, then stood and strutted from the café, Derrington close behind.

"Well, I see your favorite hobby is still verbally abusing every girl you encounter," Derrington said, sounding amused.

"Didn't I tell you I'm still a total bitch?" Massie smiled cockily. "So, like I was saying…" She paused when she saw Derrington pull out his car keys. "Hey, let's take a walk," she suggested, grabbing the hand with the keys. "So we can talk some more."

Derrington raised an eyebrow but replaced the keys in the pocket of his leather jacket, then wordlessly took Massie's hand in his and they strolled off down the dimly lit street.


	7. Musical Chairs, er, Boyfriends

Being in love with one of Hollywood's favorite young burnouts was really coming in handy for Cam Fisher. What with all the blogs and websites devoted to Claire and celebutantes in general, it was easy to look at paparazzi and amateur photos that had just been posted from the night and find out where Claire probably was. Enlisting the Wi-Fi on his iPhone, Cam had been tracking Claire through such photos ever since leaving Olivia's party and heading for the city. He knew it was a bit stalker-ish, but if stalking was what he had to resort to in order to talk to his ex, he wasn't above doing so.

Cam's stalking had led him to a little club on a seemingly less-than-special back street. He'd had no trouble with the bouncer; he was always being mistaken for some teenage heartthrob or another. Now all that was left was finding Claire in the sea of people inside.

---

"So, what did you want to talk about?" Derrington asked, swinging Massie's hand in his.

"I don't know," Massie said honestly. She just hadn't wanted to head home quite yet. "Well, actually… Like, what happens next?"

A small smile crossed Derrington's golden tan face. "What do you mean? I mean, really, Block, this isn't even really a first date, we're not going to go have sex or something."

Massie smacked him playfully with the hand that wasn't entwined with his. "No, perv, come on, I knew that. I mean, like, us." Massie was secretly grateful for the confirmation that Derrington hadn't turned into a manwhore who wasn't above doing it on the first date.

"Well…" Derrington got down on one knee, keeping Massie's hand in his. Massie's heart sped up. He couldn't be proposing, that would be stupid. But what else could he be doing?! What would she say? She _so_ wasn't going to be married at seventeen. "Massie Block, will you…"

"We're seventeen, we can't get _married_!" Massie dropped his hand and stared at him, horrified.

Derrington stood up and brushed off his knee (which, Massie was glad to see, was covered by the leg of his jeans) and gave Massie a quizzical look. "I was kidding around. I was just going to say 'Massie Block, will you be my girlfriend?' I just thought it would be funny. I'm not an idiot, I know we can't get married. And chances are, we won't ever end up wanting to."

Massie opened and closed her mouth, wondering what to respond to first. Should she voice her relief that he'd been joking? Try to convince him that she had been too? Or should she act offended that he thought that there wasn't a good chance that they'd have a future together? Or maybe she should address the fact that he'd just asked her to be his girlfriend, mere hours after they'd reunited. "Um," she said finally.

Derrington's face fell slightly. "Hey, if you think that getting back together already is moving too fast, I get it. I mean, until like a couple of hours ago, we hadn't seen each other in years. So I get it. I just kind of felt a connection, and I thought you did, too, so…" His voice trailed off and he simply shrugged.

"No, no, no, I'm just, like… Wow. You know?" Massie gave a small laugh. "But I'd love to try the whole relationship thing again. I did miss you, you know. I mean, I tried to convince myself I didn't, and it kinda worked, but as soon as we started talking again…"

"So… can I take that as a yes?" Derrington arched an eyebrow.

Massie smiled. "Yes."

---

"Hi, have you seen Claire Lyons?" Cam approached a girl who looked like she couldn't be older than sixteen and tried to look important while wondering how she could have possibly gotten into the club.

The girl wrinkled her freckled nose. "Um, no."

"Alright, thanks," Cam said.

"Why are you looking for _her_?" the girl demanded as Cam turned to walk away. "She's a total diva, you know, she's not going to talk to some random guy. She doesn't do autographs, _trust_ me."

"I dated her until the eighth grade," Cam informed the snobby girl. "I think she'll talk to me."

"Ohmigod, so you're that horndog she's always talking about in interviews!" the girl realized, giggling. "Yeah, I don't think she'll talk to you."

"You do realize I could get you thrown out of here, right, munchkin? You're underage," Cam shot back.

The girl's snotty giggle died out and an icy glare replaced it. "Shut up, ass hole. My dad owns this place. I can do whatever the hell I want."

Cam rolled his eyes and turned to leave again. He took a few steps before realizing he was being trailed. "Can I help you?" he asked the blonde girl whom he'd just confronted a few moments ago.

"Nope, I'm good," she said sweetly.

Cam walked off again, at a faster pace this time, cutting through the dance floor to try and lose the girl.

"Hold on! Jesus, you're walking too fast," she panted, appearing behind him again.

"What do you want?" Cam demanded.

"Dance with me," she commanded, regaining her sweet tone.

"No thanks, I think I'll pass," Cam said, turning back around and heading through the crowd, searching for Claire. He felt a surprisingly firm grip on his upper arm and turned to see an irritated sixteen-year-old staring up at him.

"I said, dance with me. Or would you rather buy me a drink?" she raised an eyebrow.

"We're both under twenty-one," Cam replied, leaving out the fact that he would have headed to the bar on his way out anyways.

"And my dad owns the club. The bartender's not going to rat me – or my dad – out to the cops. And if you're with me, that goes for you as well. But if you're too much of a pansy to have a drink, you're going to have to dance with me," the girl informed Cam, making it obvious that she didn't intend to give it up anytime soon.

"Alright, weren't you saying a few minutes ago how I'm a total horndog and I shouldn't be allowed to live and all that other bullshit?" Cam demanded. The girl nodded her assent. "Then why won't you leave me the hell alone?"

"Because. You must be at least eighteen, you're incredibly hot, and you horndogs tend to get around, so you probably know… stuff," she said suggestively.

"You're pretty horny for a sophomore, aren't you?" Cam said sarcastically.

"I'm a junior, thanks," she said snottily. "So. What's it going to be, man? Drinks? Or dancing?"

Cam sighed reluctantly. "Where's the bar?"

The girl smirked triumphantly. "I'll lead the way. I'm Cassidy, by the way."

Cam pressed his lips together in what was supposed to be a smile. "Cam."

---

"So, Adam, am I crazy, or were you on an A&F bag a couple of months ago?" Claire asked, granting the almost godlike guy her sexiest smile.

He responded with an equally dazzling smile, his perfectly white teeth seeming to glow in the dim light of the club. "Yeah, that was me. I was CosmoGirl!'s guy candy this month, too."

"I can see why," Claire wrapped her arms around him as a catchy song began to play.

"So, how long are you in town?" Adam asked, locking his blue eyes with Claire's.

"Ugh, who knows? I was at Promises for a bit, and my agent and I decided it would be best for me to take a break from the industry for a while, so I came back home. Sort of," Claire explained, rolling her eyes.

"Promises? That rehab place?" Adam inquired. Claire responded with a nod and a shrug. "Yeah, my friend was in there for a while, too. But what d'you mean, when you say you _sort of_ came back home?"

Claire was surprised at the guy's interest in having a conversation. She'd pegged him as the shut-up-and-put-out type. "Um, well, I didn't actually live in Westchester for that long. I mean, I lived there when I was twelve and thirteen, before I moved out to L.A. But before that I lived in Florida."

Adam grinned. "The Sunshine State. Whereabouts down there?"

"Miami Beach," Claire lied automatically. She'd been telling this lie ever since she'd moved into the public eye, deciding that pretending she was from the more glamorous area, rather than a rather plain area in Orlando, was better for her image.

"Really? That's cool. I grew up in Orlando, actually," Adam told her.

"Oh-!" Claire began excitedly, already forming a list of questions to ask in case they'd crossed paths a decade ago. Then she realized that as far as Adam knew, she'd grown up four hours away from Orlando. _Damn_, Claire thought. This was the first time her story had worked against her.

" 'Oh' what?" Adam inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, just… my grandparents live around there," Claire said. At least this was true.

---

"Jimmy, I'll take a strawberry daiquiri," Cassidy ordered, "and Cam would like…?" She turned to Cam and raised an eyebrow.

"Nothing for me, I have to drive later," Cam said truthfully.

"Good man," Jimmy the bartender slapped Cam on the shoulder. He was being paid by the hour, so it didn't matter that Cam wasn't buying anything.

"Take a cab," Cassidy locked eyes with Cam. "Or I'll cancel my order and we can go dance."

"Damn it, kid, why won't you leave me alone?" Cam demanded, exasperated.

Cassidy glared at him. "Um, first of all, I'm not a _kid_. You're only a year or two older than me, so shut your fucking mouth. And second of all, I won't leave you alone because I get whatever the hell I want, whenever the hell I want it. And tonight, I want you to either buy me a drink or dance with me. And I'm not going to leave you alone until I get what I want."

"Fuck," Cam swore under his breath. "Fine. I just want a beer. I don't even care what kind. Just whatever's cheap," he told Jimmy.

---

"Block, how did I let you drag me to watch you get your nails done?" Derrington demanded, looking up from a copy of Cosmo that he'd picked up from the glass table in the lobby of the spa.

"You could get a manicure, too, I offered," Massie pointed out.

Derrington wrinkled his nose in a way very reminiscent of his eighth-grade self. "I'm a guy."

"Yes, Derrick, that's why it's called a _man_-icure," Massie said seriously, managing to keep a straight face until she saw the incredulous look on Derrington's face, as if he wasn't sure whether or not he was supposed to take her seriously. "I'm _kidding_," she explained once her laughter had subsided.

"Men do come in to get manicures," the nail technician piped up. "It's not about looking girly, it's about being well groomed."

"Of course it is. I'll definitely consider that," Derrington nodded as though he was hanging on the woman's every word, then rolled his eyes at Massie when the woman looked down, sending Massie into another fit of giggles.

"Um, Derrick," she said after a moment, "why in the hell are you reading Cosmo?"

He blushed, then showed her the cover and pointed to the big bold lettering reading 'Why You Should Touch Your Breasts Every Day,' a grin on his face. "It's intriguing. I'm enlightening myself."

"Let me guess: next, you're going to ask me if you can try out their recommendations," Massie said sarcastically.

"No, I was going to try it on my grandma. Freak her out a little," Derrington's grin widened.

Massie couldn't help but crack a smile. Sure, Derrick was immature. But now, with no obnoxious older girls breathing down her neck, she was learning to embrace him instead of push him away.


	8. Yesterday Is Gone

Hey guys, sorry about how long it took for the last update. I've been super busy lately, but my schedule's opening up, and Thanksgiving break is coming up, so I'll have a lot more time for writing. So stick with me, kay? R&R. :)

---

"Hey, barkeep, can I get some Kahlua and milk, on the rocks?" Claire smiled sweetly at the bartender. "And some Heineken for Adam here."

"Kahlua and milk?" a younger blonde girl raised an eyebrow incredulously. "For real? You make millions of dollars on your movies and you just want Kahlua and milk? Wow, pathetic much?"

"Thanks for the insight, kiddo," Claire forced a smile, "but I'm just going to drink what I want, okay? You wouldn't know much about liquor, anyways."

The girl sighed huffily. "I'm Cassidy MacArthur. My father owns this club. And about twelve others. So I know a decent amount about liquor."

"Who are you heckling now?" a familiar voice directed the question towards Cassidy. Claire searched the darkened room for the voice's owner and found herself making direct contact with her ex-boyfriend's green and blue eyes.

"Cam?"

"Claire?"

Claire moved closer to Adam, showing Cam that she wasn't interested. Cassidy grabbed Cam's hand, making sure he and Claire both knew that he wasn't available. Cam immediately jerked his hand away, to Cassidy's disappointment.

"Uh, Claire, can I talk to you? I think we really need to, you know, clear some things up," Cam moved away from Cassidy, who was sending him an oh-no-you-don't glare.

"Um, no," Claire said, with as much politeness as she could muster. "I'm here with_A-dam_," she explained, emphasizing the syllables in the Abercrombie model's name.

"And Cam, you're here with _me_," Cassidy reminded him.

"No, not really," Cam said nonchalantly, prompting another death stare from Cassidy. Cam ignored this and continued to address his ex. "Claire. Really."

"Look, I already listened to your hoochie mama's excuses. I'm assuming I'm going to hear the same thing from you," Claire said, her voice hard.

"My hoochie mama? Nice, Claire, real classy. What about Conner Foley?" Cam shot back.

Claire's eyes widened. She opened her mouth once, twice, three times as she tried to formulate a comeback, or a way to deny everything, or any way to get the hell out of there. But now she had no allies. Adam was staring at her incredulously at the suggestion that he was taking Conner's sloppy seconds, Cam was watching her every move, and Cassidy looked like she wanted to vaporize Claire for taking Cam's attention off of her. "You know what? Fine. I'll humor you. But you better have something damn good to tell me, or nothing's going to change," Claire spat. She turned to Adam. "Can I call you?" She turned puppy-dog eyes on him.

"Nah. You've got a few guys lined up," Adam said, his voice devoid of emotion as he turned and walked away, other girls already approaching him.

"Great, thanks, Fisher. Now let's get the hell out of here and get this over with," Claire stomped across the dance floor, knowing full well how immature she looked, but not caring a bit. Cam followed, Cassidy still attached to him. When Claire finally approached her BMW, she turned to face Cam. "Get rid of the mini-skank."

"Uhm, ex-_cuuuse_ me?" Cassidy tossed her blonde mane angrily, preparing for a fight.

"Cassidy, just call me sometime, okay? I have to go," Cam handed Cassidy a napkin with a phone number scribbled on it. She appeared satisfied, and she turned and went back into the club, leaving Cam alone with Claire for the first time in years.

"You actually gave that munchkin your number?" Claire rolled her eyes at Cam in irritation, wondering why on earth she had to deal with this moron.

"Yeah, right. I gave her the rejection hotline," Cam said. Claire couldn't help but smirk at Cam's uncharacteristically rude actions. He smiled back, knowing that every little thing he said and did would have an effect on what would happen next.

---

"So, other than being some soccer superstar, what have you been up to these last few years?" Massie asked her sort-of-new boyfriend. They were sitting in his car in the mall parking lot, talking.

"Not much, really. Mostly just soccer. I came back up here a bunch of times, but I never saw you," he explained. "I came every year for Christmas and spring break."

"Oh," Massie said. "Well, I'm in Aspen every year for Christmas, and Europe for spring break. So that would explain it. But to be honest, I don't know if I'd have talked to you even if I had seen you. At least, for a year or two after you left."

He grinned. "Yeah, same here. I was 'above' you. You were too immature."

"So were you!" Massie said playfully. "Funny how that works."

"Yeah," he agreed. "So, had any steamy love affairs over the past few years?" he joked.

Massie's smile froze as she tried to process his words and come up with an honest response that wouldn't ruin everything. "Uh, I… Well, you know, uhm…"

Derrick's grin faded. "What?"

"Oh, nothing, really, you just caught me off guard," Massie recovered, forcing a smile that was unnaturally big. It looked more like she was baring her teeth to scare him off.

He raised an eyebrow suspiciously. "Massie. You're not telling me something. Come on, it can't be _that_ bad."

"Um, well," she began, deciding to start from the very beginning. "Okay. Remember the first time we ever hung out? At my Halloween party in seventh grade? And how you liked me then?" She paused as he nodded, not following where she was going. "Well, the whole reason I was hanging out with you was because Cam was there. I totally had this thing for him. But then Claire started hanging out with him, and we hung out at Sushi Samba that one time, and I sort of gave up on Cam. Then, after we broke up, and you left, Cam and I sort of… you know."

"You two hooked up?" Derrick demanded. "I've been talking to him ever since I left, and he never told me any of that."

"Yeah, well… we didn't exactly advertise it," Massie stared at the toes of her purple Jill Stuart patent pumps.

"Hey…" his eyebrows knit as he realized something. "He was with Claire. Massie, what the fuck was going on?"

"We got together when they had broken up," Massie said lamely.

"Yeah, but they got back together. He told me," Derrick said, his voice hard. "She was your _best friend_."

"Alicia, Kristen, and Dylan were my best friends," Massie said defensively.

"That's not true. Claire definitely placed higher on your priority list than Kristen and Dylan, at least before I left, and I think she was more important than Alicia, too," he argued.

"Shut _up_!" Massie suddenly screamed, losing her usually well-maintained composure. Derrick looked taken aback. "So, what? Is that why Alicia and Kristen and Dylan are all dead, but not Claire?"

"Massie, you're being ridiculous," he said, but his voice had softened. "That's not what I'm saying. All I'm saying is-"

"That I'm some whore, right? I went behind my 'best friend's' back with her boyfriend? And my real friends' deaths were my payback from Gawd," she shot.

"No, that's not what I'm saying. Look, Block, I know that they were all important, I'm just… surprised. That you would do this to any of them, I mean," he explained. Tears started rolling down Massie's cheeks, taking her Chanel mascara and MAC eyeliner with them. Derrick looked startled. "Hey, wait, I didn't mean to… Come on, Block, what did I say?" he pleaded. "Here, have a tissue." He pulled a tissue out of a box on the dashboard and reached toward her, to wipe the makeup trails off her cheeks.

Massie smacked his hand away. "Do those have lotion?"

Derrick stared at her, bemused. "Uh… yeah, they're Puffs Plus," he responded after checking the box.

"Those clog my pores," Massie said, back in her usual cool, collected state. She pulled a packet of tissues out of her purple patent Juicy Couture Princess Fluffy purse and wiped her face. "So, um," she began after a moment of extremely awkward silence, "sorry about my little meltdown there. No one's ever really talked to me about them, you know, since everything happened. So it was just kind of…" Her sentence trailed off.

"Yeah," he nodded in understanding. "Like, everything you'd felt just sort of burst out on whoever talked to you about it first. And that was me… lucky me." He laughed nervously. "Yeah, the same thing happened to me when my parents got divorced. Someone – Plovert, maybe? – mentioned the divorce, and I kind of went psycho on him."

"I never even knew about that," Massie said. "Your parents, I mean."

"Yeah, well… I didn't like to broadcast it. It kinda sucked," he shrugged.

"You know what'll make us both feel better?" Massie asked, brightening.

"Block, I'm not letting you get your stylist to give me highlights," Derrick warned.

"Damn, I was counting on that one," she said with a wry smile. "No, let's go back to that party and throw things at LBRs."

"So we're both still immature, I see," he grinned back. "But hey, I'm up for it. Nothing like seeing that Coral McAdams girl with clam dip smeared in her hair."

---

"So, Cam. What's the latest ploy to win me back?" Claire asked, sliding into the booth at Zonies, a local calzone restaurant.

"There's no trick, Claire. I just want you to know what happened," Cam said honestly, locking his eyes with Claire's, his with a pleading look, hers looking paranoid and irritated.

"Sure, Cam, and I'm going to believe you because…?" Claire said disdainfully.

"I've never been anything but honest to you!" Cam said defensively.

"Oh, right, except for when you cheated on me with my _best friend_," Claire said sarcastically. "But other than that teeny tiny detail, you've been totally honest. Oh, wait! Except for when you snooped on my MySpace and lied to me about that camp tramp, Nikki."

Cam's face hardened. "You can't talk to me about snooping and then bring up Nikki."

"I think I just did, didn't I?" Claire narrowed her eyes. "Who cares that I was snooping? You _lied_ to me."

"Yeah? Well, then who cares about me snooping on your MySpace? You were lying to me about Conner," Cam shot back.

"I still never cheated on you with your best friend!" Claire said icily.

"Oh, no, you only had some pathetic e-relationship with some big-shot movie star," Cam said scathingly. "Which, if you remember, is why I ever hooked up with Massie anyways."

"Well, if I'm such an evil bitch, why do you even want me back?" Claire demanded.

Cam rolled his eyes in exasperation. "I'm just trying to make you understand, okay? Claire, I _don't_ want you back. I really just don't give a damn."

Claire stared at Cam. He had said this with such resolution and so seriously that she knew he truly meant it. He didn't care. And for some reason, this hurt Claire more than anything he'd ever said or done.

---

review please. :)


	9. Heart to Heart

When Massie and Derrick arrived at Olivia's party again, she didn't think he was serious about the LBR target practice. Until he started lecturing her about the rules. 

"So, here's the deal," he began as they headed towards the food, "for girls, the chest is a bull's eye. For guys, it's the crotch. If you hit a bull's eye with chips or vegetables, it's 1 point. Fruit is 5 points, and dip is 10. Oh, but taco dip is 20, and if you hit a guy in the crotch with a banana, it's 100, just 'cause it's ironic."

"Got it," she grinned. "So how many points do we need to win?"

"It's just for fun," Derrick explained. Then a devious smirk appeared on his face. "But actually, if one of us nails Coral McAdams with the clam dip, they're the automatic winner."

"Done," Massie nodded. "Let's go get 'em." She immediately picked up a banana from the snack table and stole a sneaky glance at Derrick. She approached him, looking as innocent as she could manage. "Oh, um, one more thing…" She whipped out the banana and tossed it at him, below the belt, making good use of the reflexes she'd gained from years of horseback riding. "100!" she giggle-shouted, darting away as fast as she could.

"Oh no you di'in't!" Derrick called after her, putting on his best impression of a ghetto-fab girl. He chased after her, catching up to her quickly, thanks to his agility training for soccer, and grabbed her around the middle, pinning her down on a couch.

"Crap," Massie laughed, out of breath from trying to outrun him. She sat up straight, still giggling.

"You do realize I'm going to have to get you back for that," Derrick smirked.

"Nooo!" Massie giggle-whined. "I can't get food on these clothes! I don't think even Woolite can stand up to Olivia Ryan's taco dip. It's probably radioactive or something."

"My _mom_ made that!" Olivia pouted.

"Uh, hey, Olivia," Derrick waved halfheartedly.

"Didn't see you there," Massie said in a blasé manner that stated obviously that she really didn't care.

"Well, I'm here," Olivia said, her pout becoming more pronounced. "And what you said was _mean_. I think you should say you're sorry."

Massie could barely contain the incredulous laughter that was bubbling inside her, especially when she saw the look on Derrick's face. "Sorry for what, that you're so effing stupid? Because trust me, girl, I'm definitely sorry. Really."

"I'm not stupid!" Olivia stamped her foot.

"Who told you that?" Massie asked patiently. "Your mommy? Or your plastic surgeon?"

"My plastic surgeon and I don't have any kind of relationship outside his work, seriously! Why do people keep asking me about that?" Olivia demanded. "I mean… What plastic surgeon?" she added as an afterthought.

Massie rolled her eyes and shook her head. "More and more of my brain cells are committing suicide every second I stand here talking to you, so… buh-bye." She turned and walked a few paces away, then watched for Olivia to turn her attention elsewhere. Once the blonde began chatting with a ninth-grader, Massie took the opportunity to chuck a piece of broccoli at her head. By the time Olivia had screeched in annoyance, Massie had taken off.

"Ehmagawd, she is so_dumb_!" Massie exclaimed, giggling so hard she could barely breathe.

"I liked the broccoli sniping," Derrick observed. "Very nice touch. But no points, 'cause you only hit her in the head."

"Well, I've already got a hundred, and you've got how many…?" Massie pointed out playfully.

"Well, I think I'm about to win. 'Cause here comes Coral McAdams," Derrick said, his eyes locked on the LBR's over-hennaed hair.

"Nooo!" Massie screeched. She darted over to the snack table and snapped up the bowl of clam dip before Derrick could reach it. "How do you like me now?" she grinned, and headed for Strawberry.

"Heyyy, Strawberry!" Massie smiled sweetly as she approached Coral.

"Hey, Massie, what's up? Where's Cam?" Coral, a.k.a. Strawberry, grinned at the recognition.

"He had to leave. Bad diarrhea, _major_ skid marks in the undies if you know what I mean," Massie winked.

"Ew," Strawberry wrinkled her nose. "Hey, I heard Claire's back, and Cam's gonna ditch you and go for her. So… watch your back, kay?"

"Ehmagod, really?" Massie clutched at her heart. "I'd better go find him! Oh, here, have some clam dip."

"Oh, no, it's okay," Strawberry declined with a polite smile.

"I _insist_," Massie smirked vindictively for a moment before emptying the contents of the plastic Tupperware container over Strawberry's courtesy-of-a-Kool-Aid-package hair. "Enjoy your evening!" she waved cheerfully, leaving the bowl perched on Strawberry's head like a beret.

"Damn it, you win!" Derrick pretended to be disappointed. "Now let's get the hell out of here."

"Kay," Massie agreed, running out of the house as fast as her pumps could carry her.

---

"So do you get it now?" Cam asked.

"Yep," Claire said, her voice dull.

"And…?" Cam prompted.

"It's basically what Massie told me," Claire shrugged.

"Okay, but are you over it?" Cam asked.

"Sure. Fine. Whatever," Claire said, sounding detached.

"Then what's your problem?" Cam demanded, trying to sound angry and irritated, but unable to cover the slightly concerned edge to his voice.

"You led me on," Claire accused suddenly.

"What?" Cam demanded, now genuinely confused.

"You led me on," Claire repeated, trying to cover the sadness in her voice. "You acted like you wanted to get back together when you called me. And now you're saying you 'really just don't give a damn.' Will you stop jerking me around already?" Claire used Massie-esque air quotes to put on an air of cool, confident sarcasm, then remembered that Massie and her quirks were dead to her.

"Well, you told _me_ that you didn't give a damn about me. So I snapped out of it and got over it. And now you're being a drama queen because the feeling's mutual and you don't have anyone to worship you anymore," Cam asserted.

Claire shook her head. "Cam, you make it sound like I'm a complete egotistical bitch."

"That's what you've been for the whole time you've been back," Cam responded.

Cam's brutally honest words stung Claire like a slap in the face. She fiddled absentmindedly with her Tiffany necklace while formulating a response. "What?" she finally said weakly.

"You've been a total psychotic bitch," Cam said. "You're being nasty to me, Massie, even your family. Why don't you just go back to La La Land? You're making everyone here miserable. We're all trying to help you out and make this easier for you, do whatever we can, make sure you understand everything. But you keep rejecting everyone except horny Abercrombie models."

"Oh, don't bring up Adam unless you want to talk about your little friend Cassidy," Claire warned. "But, God, Cam! You all seriously expected me to be happy, happy, happy about being back here, surrounded by people who have stabbed me in the back and made my life miserable?"

"No, we didn't. But you're taking the phrase 'evil bitch' to a whole new level," Cam shrugged, as if commenting on the weather.

"I'm not _that_ bad," Claire rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, you are!" Cam shot back. "Jesus, Claire, this isn't Hollywood. You don't need to constantly be trying to one-up everyone and make the bitchiest comments. It's not making you any friends."

"What if I don't want to make any friends here?" Claire replied, raising an eyebrow. Even as she said this, she felt a pang in her stomach. She hadn't wanted to admit it during the time she'd been back, but she wanted nothing more than to make some friends. Real friends. Not movie-best-friends or drinking buddies. Friends who she could actually count on. Like the ones she remembered from seventh grade.

Cam pressed his lips together, obviously frustrated, and for one second of insanity, Claire wanted nothing more than to lean in and kiss him, as if that one magical action could turn back the clock, so that she never would have contacted Conner, so that Cam never would have been driven into Massie's arms, so that maybe – just maybe – the girls wouldn't have been at that one unlucky place at that terrible moment in time that combined to kill three girls whose lives had been far too short.

"I'm sorry," she said suddenly.

---

"Next time you see Strawberry, I think you'd better watch out," Derrick warned. "She seems like the type who'd get revenge for the whole clam dip thing by using a pistol."

Massie laughed for what must have been the millionth time that night. She had forgotten how much fun it was to be around her old crush. "I'll see if Juicy makes tracksuits with built in bulletproof vests."

"Way to be proactive," Derrick gave a cheesy smile and flashed two thumbs up. "But hey, it's getting pretty late."

Massie sighed. "Yeah, you're right. I should probably get home."

"Yeah," Derrick agreed. "But, uh, I'll call you."

Massie smiled. "Tomorrow? Maybe we could go out for breakfast or something."

"Sounds good," Derrick smiled back. "So, I'll see you."

"See ya." Massie let go of his strong hand and headed towards the Range Rover.

"Block! Wait up," Derrick called after her, walking up behind her. "You forgot something," he said.

"What?" Massie asked, confused.

"This." He leaned in and kissed her. Now it was a done deal: Massie felt her emotions completely rushing back, both her heart and her mind finally remembering every last twinge of feeling from the seventh grade.

Massie giggled when they broke apart. "That was so cliché," she observed.

"I know," Derrick shrugged, smiling. He walked away without another word.

"Only he could manage something like that without forcing me to make fun of him until the end of time," Massie muttered under her breath, immensely proud of what she'd accomplished that night.

---

"Claire," Cam said. "Claire?" His voice was more pleading this time. "Claire!" Now he was impatient. "Claire, stop crying."

"I'm _so_ sorry," she sobbed for the thousandth time. Her mini-fight with Cam had pushed her to her breaking point. She couldn't pretend any longer that she'd created the life she'd wanted, isolated from her parents and friends.

"I know, Claire, and I said I accepted your apology. This is getting really kind of ridiculous," Cam said honestly.

"Take me back," Claire said suddenly.

"_What_?" Cam's eyes widened in response to Claire's startling words.

"I said, take me back," Claire repeated, her eyes locked on Cam's.

"You're kidding me," Cam said incredulously. "After how you've acted since you've been back? Yeah, I don't think I'm ready for that."

"Cam, I need you. You need me. All this bullshit between us has turned us into the nasty, bitter people sitting here staring at each other right now. If we try again, I think everything could just be… right," Claire said.

Cam shook his head. "You always did believe in your stupid little superstitions. Claire, life doesn't _work_ that way. What's done is done, and us getting back together is just going to cause even more shit."

"But…" Claire began feebly. Then she shook her head. "You know what? Fine. Westchester obviously isn't working out. Maybe I should just move to the south of France. No one knows anything about me there." With that, Claire reached across Cam to open the passenger door of her car and hinted to him that he ought to leave, which he did with no apparent difficulty. But what Claire couldn't see was that though Cam had meant everything he had said, his heart was still breaking all over again.

---

"If this elevator doesn't come soon I'm probably going to start throwing things," Claire mumbled to no one in particular, pushing her head backwards and banging it rather violently on the wall she was leaning against.

"Famous Claire Lyons, we meet again," Hadley Durk said dryly, approaching Claire. "BTW, can you read?"

Claire glared at Hadley. She had no time for the has-been's jabs. "Yes, Hadley, I can. Which is how I can tell that the letters on your pitiful Dooney & Bourke knockoff are two D's, not a D and a B."

Hadley shot the evil eye right back at Claire. "Congratulations, you've learned the alphabet. But if you were actually literate, you'd know two very important things." She paused, letting Claire know that she was supposed to ask exactly what those two things were. Claire intensified her glare to tell Hadley that there was no way that she was about to jump through Hadley's hoops. Hadley rolled her eyes and continued. "First of all, that elevator is out of order."

"You are effing kidding me." Claire uncrossed her arms and smacked the wall with her hand in irritation. Then her angry expression turned to one of horror.

Hadley looked delilghted and continued speaking as she began crossing the lobby towards the working elevator. "I would tell you that the second thing is that you're leaning up against wet paint, but I think you've realized that. Enjoy your evening!"

"My life is so over," Claire mumbled as she began unsticking herself.

---

review!!


	10. Get Me Outta Here

Oh my God, I'm SO sorry, everyone! I've been wicked busy with school and everything, I've been writing this chapter for months but I've never really had time to get it completed. I have this week off, though, so I should be able to get a couple more done, and I want to finish the story sometime in January or February. So, look forward to some more chapters ASAP!

---

Massie slapped at her bedside table groggily, trying to locate her cell phone, which was bleating an electronic rendition of Stars by The Weepies. She was able to think through her sleepy fog that she desperately needed a new ringtone; this one was total LBR material now that it was in all of Old Navy's commercials.

"Hullo?" she said into the phone, trying to sound alert and upbeat, even though it was 7:30 a.m. and she hadn't gone to sleep until about five hours earlier.

"Morning, sleepyhead," Derrick Harrington's amused voice woke Massie up immediately. So the night before _hadn't_ just been some dream, or some cruel joke being played on her by Gawd.

"Ehmagawd, why are you calling me at the crack of dawn?" Massie groaned, forcing herself to sit up and slide on her white Ugg Fluff Scuff slippers.

"I thought maybe we could go get some breakfast in the city. I've heard the café at the Four Seasons has got some good croissants," Derrick suggested.

Massie sighed heavily, tossed her slippers back off of her feet, and slid back under her purple silk sheets. "I know what you're trying to do," she warned.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Derrick said innocently.

"You're trying to get me to go talk to Kuh-laire, aren't you?" she accused.

Derrick sighed. "C'mon, Mass. Maybe with someone else there, she won't be too terrible to you. Maybe she'll at least _pretend_ to hear you out."

"She's a cel-_e_-brity, Derrick, re-_mem_-ber? Everything she does is for an audience. She'll be even worse," Massie pointed out.

"Block, come on. Let me treat you to breakfast. I won't make you talk to Claire, promise," he said. His voice was filled with such boyish hopefulness that Massie couldn't help but roll her eyes and give in.

"Fine. Fine! But I'm holding you to that," she warned.

"Great! I'll pick you up in twenty minutes," he said.

"Make it 45," Massie commanded. "Do I _look_ like I'm from Moscow?"

"Uh, no," Derrick said warily, knowing full well that he was falling into a trap.

"Then why do you think I'm into Russian?" Massie smirked at her revival of a seventh-grade joke.

"Okay, I'll be there in 45 minutes," Derrick relented. Massie could practically see his ah-dorable smile.

"See ya," Massie replied, then pressed End and did a few quick stretches. She was going to work _hard_ to fit in all her primping in just 45 minutes.

---

"You!" Claire practically spat. She could not _believe_ who the barista was at Starbucks. Wait. _Barista_?! Her glare faded into an evil smirk. "Hadley Durk, have you really sunk this low?"

Hadley rolled her eyes. "Can I help you?" She injected the four words she was required to say with as much malice as she could manage.

"I'd like a tall Chantico," Claire said sweetly.

"That drink has been discontinued. Would you like anything else today, _ma'am_?" Hadley demanded.

Claire smiled sweetly. "Ummm… Well, I don't mean to be any trouble, but could you possibly use Maxwell House coffee to make my drink?"

Hadley bared her perfectly straight teeth in what was supposed to be a friendly smile. "No, I'm sorry, this is _Starbucks_, if you'd like 'Maxwell House' coffee, there's a gas station with a mini-mart just a few quick blocks away."

"But I want a Low-Fat Caramel Macchiato, and I don't know how to make it myself. But I personally believe that Maxwell House coffee is much better-" Claire began with a sticky-sweet tone that made it obvious that she was just trying to make everyone's lives harder, from Hadley to the long line of people forming behind her.

"Look, Lyons, just shut up and order your fucking drink!" Hadley exploded. A guy in his mid-twenties with shaggy brown Zac Efron hair approached Hadley.

"Hadley, you should take your break. _Now_," the guy ordered. Hadley rolled her eyes and stormed into the back of the store. Satisfied, the Zac lookalike turned to Claire with an apologetic smile on his face. "I'm so sorry for the trouble, Hadley has been known to get grouchy when she works the morning rush. What can I do for you?"

Claire flashed faux-Zac her most winning smile. "A venti Low-Fat Caramel Macchiato, please."

"Coming right up," faux-Zac grinned back, showing off a set of pearly white teeth. He stopped Claire as she pulled out her Dooney & Bourke zebra wallet. "This drink is on the house, as our apology for our barista's less than satisfactory behavior."

"Wow, thanks!" Claire said, putting her acting skills to use to keep her tone upbeat and excited, even though this was just part of the plan she'd formulated as soon as she had seen Hadley behind the counter.

"You can pick your drink up right over there," faux-Zac pointed towards the opposite end of the counter.

"Awesome," Claire grinned, trying to hide her disappointment in the fact that he hadn't tried to give her his number. Suddenly, as though activated by the mere thought of communication, Claire's cell phone began vibrating against her flat stomach. She pulled it out of the pocket of her limited-edition velour Juicy Couture hoodie and flipped it open. Expecting it to be her agent or publicist, she answered in her most professional tone. "Hello, Claire Lyons speaking."

"Hey, Claire Lyons," responded the easygoing voice of a familiar boy.

"Derrick Harrington. How did you get my number?" Claire asked warily. She was sure he was calling on behalf of either Cam or Massie, and she didn't want to deal with either of those people right now.

"Massie," Derrick responded easily.

"Bad answer," Claire warned.

Derrick was silent for a moment, as though debating about whether or not he really wanted to say what he had planned on saying. Then, instead of thinking better of it, he let loose with a steady flow of words that just made Claire's day worse by the second. "Look, Claire, I know you don't want to talk to Massie. And frankly, Massie doesn't want to talk to you, either. But I want to hear about what you've been doing for the past few years, so I'm coming to the city and tracking you down. And I'm dragging Massie with me, because being around Massie when she's holding a grudge isn't exactly pleasant. I'm sure you know that. So, we're fixing this. Okay? Okay. See you later, Claire."

"Um, _excuse_ me?!" Claire responded angrily, using the last of her reserves of self-control to keep her voice from rising. But it was useless: Derrick had already hung up.

---

"I cannot believe that you convinced me to do this. I know that you're still planning on making me talk to that bitch," Massie said, her tone extremely accusatory. But there was a hint of a smile in her eyes; for some reason, she didn't mind being bossed around by Derrick. It was new and different and – dare she say it – even _fun_ being around someone who didn't seem petrified of her.

"Come on, Massie. Play nice," Derrick wagged a finger at her.

Massie smacked it away, laughing. "You are such a loser."

"That was so hurtful," he said, pretending to be on the verge of tears.

"Aww, do you want me to kiss it and make it better?" Massie grinned at him.

"Actually, I'd like that," he smiled back, leaning toward her.

Massie placed her hands on his head and turned it back to face the windshield. "Dude! You're _driving_! Keep your eyes on the road!"

"Okay, okay," he said, putting on his turn signal. He smoothly pulled off of the road and pulled the keys out of the ignition, then leaned back towards Massie, who, this time, leaned towards him and pressed her lips against his.

When she came up for air, she laughed. "I cannot believe I was just making out with you in a car on the side of the road."

"Hey, it wasn't my choice to be on the _side_ of the road," he held up his hands in mock-defense, smirking at her. She leaned in to meet his lips again.

"Um, do you want to sit here all day or do you want to go get breakfast?" Massie demanded, pulling away suddenly.

"I'm fine sitting here all day, personally," Derrick shrugged.

Massie rolled her eyes, giggling. "Perv. Well, too bad for you. You _have _to take me to a nice fancy breakfast now, after making me totally lose my dignity by making out on the side of the road."

"Awww, come on," he pleaded.

"No. Breakfast time," Massie insisted, putting the keys back in the ignition and starting the car. She placed Derrick's hands on the steering wheel. "Now drive," she instructed.

---

_Cam,_

_I was wondering if you'd like to meet up and talk about what happened last night. It was kind of awkward, so_

Claire rolled her eyes and punched the delete key on her MacBook Air. She massaged her temples, then took a sip of her tea. She _had_ to contact Cam, she couldn't live with herself without making sure he knew that she wasn't some unstable idiot, like the one she had seemed like the night before.

_Cam,_

_I hope you didn't think I was serious last night when I said I was sorry and I wanted you back. Because look, you loser, that is _so_ far from the truth. You're a cheating bastard and I want nothing to do with you. I had been drinking, and I had no idea what I was saying, and that idiot bartender probably slipped some random drug into one of my drinks so that my mind would get all_

Claire deleted everything she'd written. This e-mail was becoming harder and harder to write. Every time she started over, it seemed like she sounded even lamer than the time before. She sighed, wishing her publicist hadn't ditched her when she moved back to Westchester. Finally, Claire decided to write the e-mail and try to just channel her lawyer.

_To Mr. Cameron Fisher,_

_I am aware that our meeting last night was under less-than-desirable circumstances, and that some unpleasant words were exchanged. Following this event, I have been worried that your view of me may not be what I wish it to be, and that some things I said may not have been entirely true, instead, many thoughts I conveyed throughout the evening were thoroughly misguided and mistaken._

_Hopefully, you will be able to erase everything that took place and was said last night from your memory and not allow it to impact your thoughts, opinions, or quality of life._

_Sincerely,_

_Claire Lyons_

Claire rolled her eyes again at the formality of her letter. She stared at it, sitting there on the screen in size twelve Times New Roman font, reading it and rereading it before finally pressing Send.

"Hey, look who it is," a boy with shaggy dirty-blond hair called out, making a beeline for Claire with a huge smile on his face.

"Derrick. How have you been?" Claire asked coolly, scanning the room for the person she did not by any means want to see, but who she knew must be somewhere close by. Claire's fear came true, materializing in the form of a Juicy Couture-clad brunette.

Suddenly, the brunette opened her mouth to speak. "So, Claire, we meet again."


	11. Good Intentions

Sorry for how long it took to update! I'm always so busy... I don't know when this story will wrap up, but it's soon, I promise.

* * *

Claire was sulking. Every attempt Derrick made to break the ice was rejected by a cold yet polite one-word reply. _Frigid bitch_, Massie thought, rolling her eyes. She glanced over at Claire, who had been carefully appraising her. Massie raised an impeccably shaped eyebrow. Claire met Massie's amber eyes with her own ice blue ones.

"Staring contest? I got winner!" Derrick cheered, trying to break the tension. Massie and Claire turned to look at him at the exact same time. Then, inexplicably, they both began to laugh.

"You – are – so – _stupid_!" Claire managed to choke through her fit of giggles.

"Seriously!" Massie agreed, unable to control her cackles.

Suddenly, the girls stopped laughing and stared at each other. Derrick pointed a finger at both of them in turn. "You two just agreed!" he accused.

"No we didn't," Massie denied.

"For real," Claire contributed.

"And again!" he crowed. "Now kiss and make up," he instructed, sitting back in his chair and folding his arms. "I'm _waiting_!" he insisted as the girls sat still, silently considering each other.

"Shut up!" they ordered simultaneously. This evidence that they were clearly on the same wavelength was what caused Claire to speak.

"I still think you're a spoiled, stuck-up little slut, and that you _never_ should have done what you did with Cam back in eighth grade. _But_, I realize that it was a long time ago, and he's a total asswipe anyways, so I might as well get over it," Claire stated matter-of-factly.

"And I still think you're a stuck-up, pretentious frigid bitch. _But_, I realize that I was just like that in middle school – actually, I still am. So I might as well get over it," Massie responded, her face clear of any emotion.

"Okay, great, are we done now?" Claire demanded, opening her laptop upon hearing the ping noise that meant she had received an email. Massie rolled her eyes and stared off into space, but Derrick studied Claire's face as Claire scanned the screen, reading the email she had just received.

_Claire,_

_You are so full of shit. If you want to talk about what happened, let me know and we can set something up. Don't send me some bullshit email trying to sound like some big-shot lawyer. You're not fooling anyone._

_-"Mr. Cameron Fisher"_

"Dude, you look like you're about to have some serious explosive diarrhea," Derrick said, expressing concern as well as he knew how.

"Shut up, and don't call me dude," Claire snapped.

"Don't tell him to shut up," Massie ordered. "And Derrick, don't talk about explosive diarrhea when we're trying to eat."

"You're not eating," Derrick pointed out.

Massie rolled her eyes. "Shut up."

"I thought no one was allowed to tell me to shut up," Derrick teased.

"Shut up!" Massie and Claire said simultaneously.

"Way to gang up on a guy…" Derrick shrugged.

"Seriously, Claire, you look like you're about to fall over dead," Massie raised an eyebrow, expressing concern for her ex-friend for the first time in years.

"I just got an extremely rude email, that's all," Claire said coolly. "No need to flip a shit."

"Who's flipping a shit?" Massie demanded.

Claire rolled her eyes and didn't respond. She suddenly noticed that Derrick was no longer in his chair. And that someone was standing behind her. She whirled around to see Derrick reading Cam's email over her shoulder. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she demaded.

"Harsh," Derrick acknowledged. "What did you say to him?"

Claire sighed. With Derrick, she knew that it was best to get things like this over with, rather than sitting and listening to his incessant questioning. "I told him that I wanted to try the whole relationship thing again."

"You don't," Massie interjected.

"Excuse me?" Claire demanded.

"He's not cute, sweet, eighth-grade Cam anymore. Trust me," Massie shrugged. "You want a relationship with the person Cam used to be. That person doesn't exist anymore."

"Because _you_ killed him," Claire mumbled.

Massie gasped, and her eyes narrowed at Claire. "You bitch!"

"_Okay_, I think we should get going, Mass," Derrick interrupted, trying to control the damage. "I just remembered I wanted to bring you to that… thing. At that place. Remember? And we have to leave _right now_ if we're going to make it."

"Whatever," Massie muttered, her glare never straying from Claire. Claire sat silently and watched the pair walk out.

* * *

"I can't believe she said that to me!" Massie exclaimed as soon as she and Derrick were back in the car. "That was _so_ uncalled for! It's not _my_ fault Cam's an ass hole! How dare she! She can't blame _me_ for what other people become!"

"Block, I think you're overreacting," Derrick said rationally.

Massie stared at him, insulted. "But-"

"Think about it," Derrick interrupted.

"I still hate her," Massie informed him.

"No, you don't," Derrick sighed.

"Yes I do," Massie insisted.

"Of course you do," Derrick conceded.

"I do!" Massie exclaimed.

"I just said you do," Derrick pointed out.

"Right…" Massie examined her boyfriend's face, trying to figure out what he really meant. When she was sure all was well, she changed the subject. "So, what's this 'thing' at this 'place' that's so important to get to?"

"Uh…" Derrick stalled. "It's a surprise."

"Of course it is," Massie smirked.

"There's a plan! I didn't just bluff to get you away from Claire to avoid a catfight in the middle of the Four Seasons, or anything…" Derrick insisted.

"There wouldn't have been a catfight. I'm above that kind of thing," Massie sniffed.

"Are you kidding me? That was an episode of Jerry Springer in the making," Derrick grinned playfully.

"It's not funny," Massie pouted.

"Yeah, it is," Derrick elbowed her.

"No, it's not!" Massie insisted, elbowing him back. Derrick's arm jerked, and the steering wheel jolted with it, causing the car to swerve.

"Massie! What the fuck!" Derrick yelled, tugging at the wheel and barely avoiding a collision with the Hummer in the next lane. "Don't _do_ that!" he said angrily, turning to glance at Massie, who hadn't said a word to defend herself. She was trembling in the passenger seat, her eyes wide. "Block?" he said, more gently.

"Flashback moment," Massie said shakily. "I'm fine."

"Gotcha," Derrick nodded. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah," Massie smiled weakly. "I shouldn't have hit your arm, that was kind of stupid of me."

"It was. But we're not dead, right?" Derrick joked, immediately realizing that what he'd said wasn't funny to Massie, who had fallen silent. "Sorry," he apologized immediately.

"It's fine," she shrugged.

"Are you-" he began.

"I said it's fine," she said, ending the conversation.

* * *

_Ding._

Claire flicked open her laptop and saw an instant message on the screen.

_CAM: so do you want to talk or what?  
_

Claire read the message six times, looking into it to see if there was any kind of hidden meaning somewhere, before finally typing a response.

_CLAIRE: only if you do._

_CAM: let's talk, then._

_CLAIRE: go ahead._

_CAM: now?_

_CLAIRE: what, are you too busy banging one of my best friends?_

_CAM: get over that already, Claire._

_CLAIRE: you ruined my life._

_CAM: you're so overdramatic._

_CLAIRE: you're such a manwhore._

_CAM: okay so you only wanted to talk to me so you could bitch at me about being a manwhore, is that it?_

_CLAIRE: no._

_CAM: why, then?_

_CLAIRE: I wanted to see if you wanted to at least try to be friends. but now I'm not all that interested anymore._

_CAM: why? because you couldn't resist provoking me into saying something that would piss you off?_

_CLAIRE: way to blame it on me. typical._

_CAM: uh if you re-read the conversation you'll see that I'm obviously right._

Claire rolled her eyes and re-read the conversation, per Cam's suggestion, just so she could tell him how wrong he was. "Shit," she muttered, realizing he was right.

_CLAIRE: yeah, you are, actually._

_CLAIRE: sorry._

_CAM: you're seriously apologizing to me?_

_CLAIRE: surprise, surprise._

_CAM: wow._

_CAM: do you want to meet up for lunch or something?_

_CLAIRE: pick me up at the Four Seasons in an hour. :)_

With that last message, she snapped her laptop shut, picked it up, and began the trek up to her room to get ready. It never ceased to amaze Claire what one apology could do.

* * *

"Well, here we are," Derrick said, parking the car in a small, secluded parking lot just off of a bumpy one-way road.

"Where _are_ we?" Massie demanded.

Derrick just smiled at her as he pulled the keys out of the ignition, shoved them into his pocket, and got out of the car. He walked around to the passenger side and let Massie out.

"Seriously, where are we?" Massie asked again. Derrick wordlessly grabbed her shoulders and spun her around so that she could see. "Ehmagawd," she breathed as she saw bright blue water sparkling in the sun, with a checkered blanket and a wicker basket set up on the grass just yards away. "How did you do this? We were gone all morning!"

"I have my ways," Derrick smiled. "So, good plan?"

"Totally corny," Massie smirked. "But absolutely adorable. And considering I didn't eat anything at the Four Seasons, a picnic looks really appealing."

"Same here," Derrick agreed.

"You ate four protein bars on the way down, _and_ we stopped at McDonald's to get you an Egg McMuffin," Massie pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

"Don't hate me because I've got a fast metabolism," Derrick defended himself jokingly.

"Okay, whatever. I just hope this food is good," Massie smirked.


End file.
